The Jiggy Fallout
by Chinese Bakery
Summary: I'm trying not to be offended, but the mad race to the exit really isn’t helping. - an AU follow-up to 'Sandcastles in the Sand'.
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** The Jiggy Fallout - 1/3  
**Author:** chinesebakery  
**Characters:** Barney/Robin & the gang  
**Rating:** K+  
**Spoilers:** 3x16  
**Summary:** "Okay, I'm trying not to be offended, but the mad race to the exit really isn't helping." An AU follow-up to "Sandcastles in the Sand".  
**A/N:** Thanks to latante for the beta.

* * *

"This is bad."

"Hey!"

"Not that. That was – oh, this is baaad," Barney moans, his eyes wide as they scan the room, trying to locate his boxers.

"I take it we're not having lunch at your mom's on Sunday."

" – so bad."

"Okay, calm down. It doesn't have to be such a big deal," Robin says, her voice calculatingly calm, and starts feeling around on the floor next to her side of the bed.

"Have you seen my – "

"Here," she huffs as her irritation grows. If a pair of boxers straight to the head could kill, he'd be, at the very least, seriously injured. "Is your car about to turn into a pumpkin or something?"

But he's too busy hunting for his clothes in the living room to reply.

Two minutes later, he's standing by the bedroom door in his suit, his shirt not buttoned right and his tie askew. He looks so panicked she almost chuckles. Almost.

"Right. So, I'm gonna, uh – I've gotta go."

"Okay, I'm trying not to be offended, but the mad race to the exit really isn't helping," she shouts in the general direction of the closing front door. Then she buries her head in the pillow to muffle her frustrated groan.

So much for casual, complication-free, _awesome_ sex with the most notorious man-whore she's ever met. So much for her already wounded ego. So much for dependable friendship.

Barney's right. This is bad.

--

"What's that?" Robin asks as she grabs a chair to sit at the head of their usual booth. Marshall looks like his eyes might pop out of his head any minute, he's staring so hard.

"My new iPhone," Ted beams proudly. "Awesome, right? Barney gave it to me."

On the bench next to Ted, Barney only grunts, his eyes suddenly fixed on the jukebox at the other side of the pub.

"Careful," Marshall murmurs as he cautiously lays the phone in Robin's hand as if it were a wounded bird.

"Barney gave you an iPhone?" She pinches the thing between her thumb and index finger and glares at it.

"Yeah, he had an extra one."

"Right," she says between gritted teeth and gestures violently with the phone to Wendy-the-waitress, ignoring Marshall's cupped hands which are following her every movement, ready to rescue the fallen bird from her dangerous hands. Reluctantly, she hands it back to Ted.

She makes it eight whole minutes before her irritation with Barney wins out. She would have held it together a lot longer if not for his furtive glances in her direction, his eyes falling to the table every time they caught hers.

"If you don't stop playing with that thing, it's gonna end up in the pitcher," Robin singsongs.

"Oh, come on, have you _seen_ that touch screen?" Ted insists, oblivious to her degrading temper. "Man, I wish everything came with a touch screen. The TV, the fridge, the – HEY!" he screams as Robin swipes the phone from his hand. "ARE YOU INSANE?"

"Can't say I didn't warn you," she shrugs, and watches the little bubbles escaping from the drowning phone with some satisfaction.

"Don't worry, bro," Barney offers, laying a calming hand on Ted's sleeve. "My buddy Jeff knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows this guy who can get one sent from Malaysia for five bucks plus shipping."

He doesn't look up from his fascinating gin and tonic when Robin grabs her purse and announces she doesn't feel well. But if she'd turned back on her way out, she'd have caught his eyes following her to the door, uneasy and helpless. She misses it entirely, but Lily doesn't.

--

"Okay, what's with the, uh, outfit?" Marshall asks and gestures at her very revealing top. "I thought Simon and the Van of Heartbreak had left town."

"I have a date," she informs him with a slightly forced smile.

"Who with?" Barney inquires, his voice neutral, but the glimmer of annoyance in his eyes makes her happier than it really should.

"This guy from work, Jeremy. We don't work together, so technically, I'm not breaking the Platinum rule," she adds quickly to head Barney off. "He covered for someone today, otherwise we'd have never even met on the job."

"You met him _today_ and you're going on a date with him _tonight_? Man, that's desperate," Barney shakes his head.

"You know, if I tilt my head to the side just a little, I think I can see your right nipple," Marshall informs her, but his grin fades the instant his eyes connect with Lily's.

"Robin, will you please come to the bathroom with me?" Lily asks and gets up, crossing her arms and tapping her foot expectantly.

"Well, that depends. Will you let me copy your History test if I'm really stealthy?"

"I would, if 'stealthy' really was your strong suit," she says sweetly, giving Robin a long, meaningful look that makes her all but run to the bathroom.

The second the door closes on them, Lily turns her bad cop on and starts pacing around Robin, eyeing her dangerously, which would be a lot more intimidating if she didn't look so tiny and sweet.

"So, you and Barney have been acting weird," she states, watching Robin's face closely.

"If we're gonna hide in the public restrooms to talk about boys, you'll have to at least braid my hair before we leave."

"Did you and Barney get jiggy with it?"

"Uh, what?" Robin gasps and chuckles at the same time, her expression horrified.

"Do the mattress dance? Visit the Netherlands? Rock the casbah? Dance the horizontal mambo? See the full moan? Hide the s– "

"Thanks, Lily, I think I'm picking up what you're laying down."

"Well?" Lily crosses her arm over her chest and stares at her expectantly.

"No," Robin tries, and dissolves into nervous giggles.

"Oh, Robin..."

"It's all right, really. So, it's a little awkward right now, but things are gonna fall back into place. Someday."

"You two need to fix this. Does Ted know? Of course he doesn't. Oh, this is baaad."

"Look, it's already fixed. We're just never mentioning it ever, ever, ever again. There. Done and done."

Lily shakes her head and bites her lip, but can't keep her face from brightening as she asks, "So, how was it?"

--

"She showed you the video? _The_ video?"

"Yup," Barney nods and downs his drink, his eyes locked on the bathroom door.

"Of her own free will?" Marshall asks doubtfully. "Was she drunk? Unconscious? You didn't blackmail her, did you?"

"No!" Barney groans, outraged. "She wanted me to see it!"

Marshall glares at him for a moment, pondering, but his curiosity wins him over and the next moment, he's leaning over the table, grinning widely.

"So, how was it?"

"Oh, man, it was _awesome_. Possibly the most glorious, depraved, expertly filmed video I've ever seen. Just thinking about it now is getting me a little worked up," he admits, and clears his throat.

"Was she wearing that weird hat again?" Marshall giggles, his eyes sparkling.

"No. But last night, I dreamed she did," he whispers in confidence.

Marshall is beyond excited – he's literally bouncing in his seat with glee.  
"What about Simon? I'll bet he wore ridiculously tight pants. Oh, did he have a mullet? Please, tell me he had a mullet."

"I, uh, didn't pay much attention to him," Barney says, wrinkling his nose, much to Marshall's disappointment.

"I wish she'd show it to me," he sighs dreamily.

"I think I want to watch the video again. In fact, I'd watch it over and over. Man, I really, really want to watch it again," Barney's voice trails off.

"Why don't you ask her? She showed it to you once."

Barney considers that for a minute before asking abruptly, "Do you think Ted would like a plasma TV? A MacBook Air? A boat?"

"What are you two talking about?" Lily inquires as she suddenly appears behind Marshall.

"Barney wants to watch Robin's secret video again and buy new things for Ted," Marshall supplies diligently. Robin winces as she sits down, keeping her body as far away from Barney's as the booth will allow.

Then everything gets speeded up. Lily and Marshall engage in one of their frantic silent conversations, raising eyebrows, rolling eyes, pursing their mouths until finally, Marshall gasps with shock.

The next moment, his gigantic hand collides with Barney's cheek, harder than it ever has before. "That's four," he growls.

"My date's here," Robin announces weakly, her eyes jumping from Barney's horror-struck face to the man standing by the door.

"I think – no, you definitely broke my jaw," Barney moans before fishing an ice cube out of his gin and tonic and holding it against the side of his face.

"How could you let _him_ watch your secret video?" Marshall half demands, half whines.

"Wait, did you say he wanted to watch it again?" Lily says excitedly. "But she said – you want to have sex with her! _Again_! And you," she points an accusing finger at Robin, "you wanna make whoopee with him too!"

"Eww!" says Marshall.

"I've got to go," Robin and Barney exclaim at exactly the same time, and practically fall over each other as they try to extract themselves from the booth simultaneously, intent on getting as far away from the other as they possibly can.


	2. Chapter 2

**Title:** The Jiggy Fallout – 2/3  
**Author:** chinesebakery  
**Characters:** Barney/Robin & the gang  
**Rating:** T  
**Spoilers:** 3x16  
**Summary:** "Okay, I'm trying not to be offended, but the mad race to the exit really isn't helping." An AU follow-up to "Sandcastles in the Sand".  
**A/N:** Ok, I lied, there will be 3 chapters, not 2. Thanks to latante for the uber-awesome beta.

* * *

Robin's mind is so occupied by the earlier conversation at McLarens she nearly misses all the normal sitting down, getting the menus, and ordering drinks chit chat. By the time she tunes back into what Jeremy is saying, she realizes she's on the date of doom.

"Ugh, that thing's filthy."

"What are you doing?" Robin asks and watches in horror as Jeremy waves a towelette in the air and carefully wipes the side of his glass, raising it to study imaginary fingerprints in the light.

"Oh, that's for germs."

"Germs?"

"Germs," he nods gravely. "You wouldn't believe the kind of filth you can find on an average restaurant's stemware. I bet that waitress hasn't washed her hands since she started her shift. It's a bacteria bonanza. "

"Oh," Robin says, her eyes rounding, reaching for her wine glass.

"Don't touch it! Here, let me clean yours too," he says and grabs the glass out of her hand.

"Ooh," she says again, and notes to herself that she must sound like Barney did that time she overheard a girl tell him she liked to spoon-feed her cat low-fat yogurt.

She shakes her head, willing Barney out of her mind.

"I hope it doesn't bother you – I know some people find it weird, but I'm just very serious about hygiene. And I feel everybody should be, you know? I grew up on a farm and, let me tell you, you don't want to know what happens when you forget to wash your hands after feeding the pigs. Oh, I miss the farm. I just really, really miss the farm. The city's great, of course. It's so exciting! But it's really hard to meet people here, you know? Of course you know, you're not from here either. And – I'm so lonely," he finishes agitatedly and then reaches across the table and catches her hand in his.

"Ooooh," she says once more, staring at their hands and wondering how many crazy germs he's passing to her as they speak and how fast she can pull her hand back without coming off like a bitch.

"But you don't mind, right? You look so open-minded. That's what I first noticed about you. That, and your really clean hands."

Robins smiles tersely and downs her red wine in one large gulp. "I'll have another glass of wine, please," she says as she catches the passing waitress' elbow.

--

At first, he really means just to have another drink away from Lily's excited shrieks and Marshall's menacing hand before he goes home to his empty bed. Honestly.

And really, he cannot be blamed for the latest loaded woman currently throwing herself at him. It's a talent he's developed over the years, fine-polished night after night until he became what he is today: the ultimate drunken tourist magnet. There's nothing he can do about it now.

"So, what do you do for fun around here?" Cindy – Stacy? Mindy? – asks as she leans closer, and if her bizarre swaying is any indication, she's totally blotto.

"Well, two nights ago, I had sex with one of my best friends, who also happens to be my other best friend's ex. That was certainly fun. And by fun I mean – what the hell am I doing?" he wonders aloud, but Cassie misses it entirely.

"Okay," she trails, wrinkling her nose. "So, are you, like, bisexual or something?"

"Please," he dismisses with a wave and winks, more by the force of habit than anything else – his smile feels a little strained.

"Oh, good," Sandy beams. "You know, I'm going back to Utah tomorrow and I really want to have fun on my last night in here. I mean, I'm in New York City, and all I've done since I've arrived is visit some stupid monuments."

"Uh huh," he nods, but doesn't have the heart to mention his own monument-licking exploits.

"I think alcohol makes me kinda slutty," she whispers in his ear and lets her hand linger against his cheek.

And as he climbs into the cab with Slutty Candy, he realizes he doesn't really feel like blogging about this, which is odd, because drunken tourists always make his stats go through the roof.

--

As Ted proceeds to explain what he's planned for Stella and their second month-versary, which includes a horse-driven coach that's guaranteed to make Stella run for her life, Robin tries to focus on the conversation, but her mind wanders away of its own accord.

She wonders at what point in this scenario Ted's planned to tell Stella he loves her, because that's what Ted does.

What _she _does, apparently, is have mad, frantic sex on a complete whim with her best friend, threaten the equilibrium of the group, and fail pathetically at pretending it never happened despite the growing evidence to the contrary. Evidence like the way he sits so stiffly on the chair next to her, trying to avoid looking at her, talking to her, or acknowledging her presence in any way. They're clearly doing this wrong, and it's making her go very quietly insane.

She's a grown woman, and it was hardly her first one-night stand. She knows better – better than to let it affect her, better than allowing herself to want another round. They're both grown-ups, they can recover from such a little, insignificant mistake. It was just sex, albeit very good sex – Barney of all people should know how little it matters. All they need to do is act like adults and get better at pretending it never, ever happened.

Then she crosses her leg and their knees touch, and the innocent contact is enough to make her reconsider adulthood completely. She really should know better.

--

Ted's 'five step guide to alienating your new girlfriend in one evening' seems to include a bunch of singing midgets in costume, but maybe he heard that part wrong. He's stopped paying close attention a while ago – either when Robin readjusted her bra strap, or when she crossed her leg and her knee bumped against his, he's not sure.

It's too exhausting to look at her, so he doesn't. It's bad enough to sit inches from her and keep up an indifferent front when he's trying so hard not to picture her lovely breasts (this memory brought to you by the bra strap adjustment) bouncing fiercely, or to remember the exact location of those cute little moles on her inner thigh (this one pops in when she crosses her legs) which he shouldn't know about at all. He really doesn't need the added pressure of Lily and Marshall staring at him in turn as if expecting him to implode out any minute.

Sleeping with someone you shouldn't sleep with is one thing. Having to block out the nagging visual – and auditory and tactile – memories for fear your best friend might ban you from your favorite bar, your favorite circle of friends, and the company of your favorite forbidden sex partner is another. As is the will it takes to refrain from grabbing her arm and rushing her to the bathroom to check if they work as well together in an upright position as they did supine, even though he's fairly certain they do.

And it makes no sense at all, because he's not _that_ guy. What he meant all along was for Ted to become more like him, certainly not the other way around. Maybe it's _her_. It has to be her. She's a bro-breaker. That would explain so much.

His internal monologue is interrupted by Robin's foot hitting his shin hard, and it's clearly intentional this time. He looks up to find everybody staring at him expectantly.

"Is there something wrong?" Ted asks, and Barney shifts uncomfortably in his seat.

"Yeah, you look a little preoccupied," Lily adds, smiling like she can see right through him. "What's up with you?"

"Oh, gross," Marshall mutters.

"Did you have a problem _at work_, Barney?" Robin asks, her stare so pointed it pokes him, and he has to clear his throat the instant they make eye-contact.

But she doesn't look away instantly the way he expected her to. Her eyes linger long enough for a billion images to flash through his brain, and, for a few mortifying seconds, he thinks he might be blushing. Not so much because of the triple-X porn playing in his head but the overpowering need for a repeat right there, right now. Damn her and her paralyzing bro-breaking skills.

"Come on, guys, don't make me use my cyanide tooth," Barney says a beat late, smirking half-heartedly.

"Am I missing something here?" Ted asks, and everybody freezes.

"Yeah," Barney exclaims, his chuckle sounding oddly strangled to himself, "you're missing that awesome-looking little blond at the bar. How many times have I told you relationships are for losers?" he finishes lamely, but it really doesn't matter as long as he can make a run for it.

'_I'm not that guy, not that guy, not that guy_,' he chants to himself like a mantra and suits up with his best player grin as he all but runs to the bar.

--

"They're not going to fix it, are they?" Lily pouts, staring idly at the crooked ceiling.

"Maybe it will fix itself. I mean, there's an 86 chance Robin will develop post-traumatic stress and repress everything. If luck is on our side, she'll forget Barney even exists. And I still have one slap left – given the right angle, I'm sure I could slap up a really good concussion."

"I'm gonna talk to Robin. But _someone_ should talk to Barney."

"Please, _please_ don't make me do this," Marshall moans, "I'd rather they stay all broken and I get to preserve my innocence and my sense of decency."

"We have to, honey," she says and shakes her head. "I'll make it up to you."

"Now?"

"Okay," Lily shrugs. All those fuck-me looks flying around at the bar earlier had really gotten to her anyway.


End file.
